-• flipped •-

I was frozen as glaciers.

Icy, cold, unfeeling. Then she came, blazing, fierce as flames, melting me, and now I'm roars of waves, chaotic, disproportionate, destructive, crossing my banks to chase a fire that's bound to cease me.

I can't give up on Taranya.

I can't. I can't. I can't.

I tried.

When she walked out of the room, without so much as a glance back at me, I had decided to stop going after a woman who thinks too highly of herself.

But now as I watch her under the coruscating neons, the blues, reds, and whites flashing her, she evokes an unquenched thirst in me.

She makes me forget the rest of the world. She makes me forget every fucking thing. The moment I see her, that's it, everything else burns down to ashes, and she rises through them like the beaming sun of the first morning.

I need to have her.

Not just because she's a Chauhan, but because there's no other way to stop me anymore. I want her as bad as I want the world, the power, the money. God, I can't stop on just earning this woman, I have to own her, brand her, mark her.

She dances like a nymph. Not too wild, neither a professional. Her body doesn't simply move, it beats, in sync with the music, changing along the highs and lows. The usually guarded woman transforms once she's on stage, her sensuality bursts through vibrantly, grace lacing every movement, her short red dress barely leaving anything to imagination.

I reach out to lift the glass of my whiskey, my ring clinks. I bring the rim to my mouth. She rakes a hand through her hair, tosses them to one side. Her skin glistens with the sweat, it makes me lick the corner of my lips. Then, unexpectedly, she looks up. A pause, a blink, the rapid rise and sink of her marvellous breasts more than just exhaustion. It's for me. That reaction, despite blatant rejection, cold dismissal, is because of me.

I tilt the glass and take a long, dragged sip, lowering the glass from my mouth. My tongue darts out to lick the amber soaked lips. She quickly looks away.

I smirk and put the glass aside.

"Do you need a refill, sir?" The club manager asks me.

"I'll go get it." I dismiss his offer.

Grabbing the empty glass from the tray, I tear my gaze off the stage on the ground floor, shove a hand in my trouser pockets and stride out of the office.

The club is owned by Rajawats. We host a chain of pubs and clubs all over the world. It's a part of the business, more so to connect with powerful people than solely for profit. But recently, it has become a hit among the youngsters. Owning an entry pass to our club is a trend in the current generation. It swept over like a revolutionary wave that changed the outlook of Rajawat clubs all over the world after I recommended major changes two years ago.

It didn't sit well with me that our clubs only catered to upper middle class elites. From the drinks, to food, to the setting of the club, everything targeted people who are well settled, ranged from ages 30-50, and only come for a span of an hour or two. You can't attract busy crowds to busy places. It needs both, the ones who dream about future, and the ones who build it.

Coming here tonight wasn't planned.

After the party at Veer Mahal, the Chairman encouraged us to continue the celebration the way we prefer, since it must have been boring to stand among elders and listen them rave about business.

Agastya quickly snatched the opportunity. He has a flight tomorrow evening, and yet he's still here, drinking shots and flirting with girls. I shake my head. It's his duty to take Tara back home, but seeing how each one them is drunk except for her, I know she'll be driving everyone back home.

The thought unsettles me.

I descend the stairs, ignoring the hands that glide down my arms as an invitation, avoiding the beautiful distractions standing my way, because I've my eyes on someone particular.

Her eyes drift to the first floor, towards the glass wall where I was watching her from my office, and she frowns. I chuckle.

Cute.

I keep my eyes on her, while her eyes try to find me, desperation swimming in them, along with disappointment and fear. She forces a smile at Janet who nudges her on the shoulder, and shakes her head, probably assuring her not to worry. Then she glances back up, teething her lower lip, the one I recently got the taste of. I can't wait to do it again.

"Shourya," a small figure slips in. Akansha's bright brown eyes lift to look into mine. I come to an abrupt halt, glancing at her hand on my chest, and my jaw locks. "Should we dance?" She murmurs in what's supposed to be her seductive voice. My gaze flickers behind her. Tara stares right back at me.

"I don't like you."

"We're a mistake."

"I hope you have a happy future with Akansha."

"Of course, sweetheart. You don't have to ask." I smile down at the willing girl in my arms. She beams, grabs my hand and drags me to the dance floor, right beside Taranya and her best friend. She quickly shifts aside, giving me room to stand, her gaze everywhere but me.

I place my hands on Akansha's waist, pull her flush against her my body, and nudge her legs apart with the bend of my knee, dipping her low, our interlaced hands drawing a spiral before I pull her back straight.

She looks at me in awe.

And so we continue to dance.

I'm a trained Salsa dancer. I had to, since the old Shourya was one. It wasn't that hard. Agility and flexibility had always been my strongest points.

People fade, or should I say disperse, emptying the dance floor for the two of us.

Akansha struggles to keep up with my moves, her body slightly on the stiffer side, but she's lightweight, it makes it easier to lead her around. Red stains her cheeks when our cores brush, my thigh sliding gently between hers, my arm firm, poised around her waist as I spin, dip, pull, push and guide her body to move sensually.

When the music ends, I conclude the dance with another dip, so it comes full circle.

The crowd claps when we seperate.

Akansha smiles widely, clapping herself, her pupils blown wide, most definitely turned on.

A brave stranger steps out of the crowd, dressed in a simmering black dress, the neck deep, a slit on her right thigh.

"Can I get a dance?" She offers boldly.

I cock an amused brow.

She blushes, bites her lip, and swallows. "I'm a trained dancer." She mumbles. "I'd love to share the stage with you."

I contemplate. I've no qualms dancing with a hot stranger, but I'm committed in the eyes of public. If Akansha's father smells about this through rumours, he'll stir troubles during the official merge.

"C'mon man, a hot girl is asking you for a dance. Say yes!" Someone screams from the crowd.

"Am I allowed, sweetheart?" I look towards Akansha for permission.

She flusters. "Yeah, sure." She forces a smile, to keep up with her kind persona. I'm sure if she could, she would put me in a box of four by four and hide me from the world forever. The girl is obsessed with me.

"Shouldn't you say thank you to her?" I tease the woman requesting for a dance.

She chuckles. "Thank you," she smiles genuinely at Akansha.

Akansha nods back with a small smile.

A step forward. "Your hand, milady," I offer mine.

Her slides in swiftly. "Call me Aisha" she gasps when I tug her close.

"I'm Shourya. Shourya Rajawat." I introduce myself as the music begins, and for the next five minutes, Aisha and I become one.

Unlike Akansha, Aisha is fluid, and she isn't a mess of red cheeks and lustful eyes everytime our hips meet for a thrust. She's professional, and the more I dance with her, the more I realise she didn't ask for a dance because of me, she did it for my skills.

"You're so good!" She laughs when I twirl her inside the length of my arm, her bright eyes meeting mine, before I hike her waist, and her right leg folds around my torso, the other straight as an arrow, toes pointed. A quick dip, followed by a slow spin. She bends her hourglass body in the direction of the floor, arms arched. And I yank her back, our faces mere inches away, her voluptuous hair cascading around us, my hand firmly encompassing the bare flesh of her thigh. We breath harshly together as the music finally stops.

Another wave of applause goes around the club. I slowly settle the talented woman on the floor. Her hands slide down my chest, dropping to her side reluctantly. "You're one lucky woman," she says to Akansha, her words breathless, chest heaving up and down in a rapid motion.

I hear Akansha giggle. "I am." She agrees without missing a beat.

Taranya storms off the dance floor. Her best friend looks at me disappointedly, shakes her head, and follows her.

I grit my teeth.

So she gets jealous when I give other women attention but still pushes me away? I'm not a fan of mixed signals.

"I'll be back." I say to Akansha and walk off the dance floor before she can come at me with various questions. The crowd parts for me, giving me a clear view of the two retreating individuals.

I grab Taranya's hand just before she could step inside the bathroom. She looks over her shoulder, her eyes blazing. I fall speechless for a split second. Those blues never looked so stormed infused before.

"Leave me." She growls out in a warning.

I don't.

"Didn't you hear her-"

"Shut up."

Janet blinks. "Hey, shut up yourself, mister!" She steps between me and her bestfriend. I still dont let go the slender hand. "Let her go." I shove her aside. She gasps. "Did you just--!" Her eyes grow large to glare at me. "Taranya, he pushed me!" She points accusingly at me.

"I remember telling you to leave me the fuck alone just two hours ago!" Those furious blues target me. "Are you dumb!?" A hiss.

I yank her close. Her arm sandwiched between us. She twists it, trying to set free. I enjoy the struggle, until she finally gives up and settles on glaring at me. "What do you want now?"

"Come with me." I state and turn around, dragging her to the nearest elevator. "Not you." I say exasperatedly when Janet follows.

"Why not?"

"Is she deaf!?" I snap, asking Tara, because at this point, I'm genuinely curious.

"No, I just never met a man who's so fucking arrogant, who prances around like a proud peacock with his chest out, and thinks every girl he lays his eyes on is desperate to mate with him!" She bites back.

"Except you."

"Because I've standards."

"No." I answer. "Because you're insane."

"If that saves me."

"I don't know about you, but it definitely saves me." I snort and turn around, leading Taranya towards the elevator.

"Don't hurt her!" She hollers behind us.

I won't. Unless she wants me to.

We enter the elevator. The doors slide close. I press for the first floor, it automatically opens to my office. The manager stands straight seeing me step out with Taranya. I dismiss him with a flick of my fingers. He bows and scurries out through the door. I leave Taranya in the middle of the room, headings towards the glass wall to draw the blinds. That's when I notice Atharva at the bar, looking around worriedly, before he looks upstairs and eventually spot me through the glass.

"Taranya, come here." I command.

She walks closer, her eyes on me, waiting for me to speak further. I don't. I didn't have to. Atharva stands up from the stool when he sees Taranya beside me. I send him a smirk and pull the blinds close.

"What is it?" She probes.

"You tell me." I face her.

She sighs tiredly. "Seriously, Shourya? I don't have time for this." She turns to leave.

"You say you don't like me, don't want me, and still get jealous. Why are you so complicated?" I remark snidely.

She whirls around, the dark, luscious black hair gliding in the air like a fucking roller coaster, before they find home on her right shoulder, rendering another bare. "I'm entitled to my feelings. I don't hold you accountable for them. Feeling jealous is inevitable, since I'm still attracted to you. But did you see me complaining to you? I can handle my feelings. You don't have to worry about them."

I grip my tie, loosen it, and open the first button of my dress shirt. "And what about my feelings?"

"Not my circus, not my monkeys." She shrugs.

I chuckle coldly. "Aren't you one sorted woman?" I ask sarcastically. She embraces silence, arms crossed on her chest. "Let me strike you a deal." Her right brow raises in question. "You don't want to get into a lifetime commitment with me because you're not sure, right?" She nods. Fair enough. "I'm not anybody's until I have a ring on my finger. So how about we set up a transaction between us exclusively for sexual favours?" I suggest.

Her face falls blank.

"Think about it," I close the distance between us, hands cupping her elbows. "You've an out whenever you want. And I'm not really cheating since nothing's official with her."

She stares at me.

Am I expected to go on?

"It'll be nothing but sex." I clarify. "But just give into me, Tara. I've waited two years. I can't wait anymore. Please." I've never requested someone before.

"Listen to me, and listen to me very carefully," she says and I nod. "The next time you approach me with such offer, I will take legal action against you."

I frown.

"You're disgusting." She enunciates. "Not because you made this offer to me, but because you're willing to cheat on someone. I don't care if the alliance means nothing for you, you're giving someone hope and feel no guilt about it, that's where you lost me. For you, business matters more than someone's feelings, and that's plain heartless." I feel the rage blur my rationality. She steps closer, and looks up. "You want me?" Her eyes cold. "You're not a man enough." She shakes her head.

"Tara," I growl in a warning.

She chuckles. "You're a coward."

I smash my lips on hers. She whimpers, hands fisted to my chest. I cup her nape, and force tilt her head to the side, kissing her deeper, until she gasps for breath, and I thrust my tongue inside her mouth.

"Fuck, woman!" I release her feeling something sharp slice my arm open. She holds the pocket knife clenched in her hand, looking at me wide-eyed, confusion, lust, and anger consuming those blue moons. Her breasts expands and shrink. She's breathless. One hellfire of heaven. I love it.

I look down at my arm, cupping it over the bleeding cut, and then at the blade in her hand, it drips with my blood. I chuckle.

She blinks, taken aback.

Did she expect me to cry and scream? Oh no, lady, I've been whipped twenty times because I asked for a drop of water. Something as small as this isn't fazing me.

"You just make me want you more and more." I step forward.

She tries attacking me again. I fist the blade inches away from my face. She gasps, holding the handle with both of her hands as I grip harder, forcing it down, her fear stricken eyes colliding with mine. She clamps her jaw tightly, trying to throw me off, but struggles, until the flesh of my palm cuts open, blood rolls down the knife, and snakes around her wrist. She quickly releases the knife. Frantically wipes the blood to her red dress. It disappears.

I toss the knife to the floor, grab a few tissues from the desk and clean the wound on my palm.

When I look at her, she tears her eyes off the wounds and meets my stare.

"The- the next time you touch me without my consent, I'm returning the favour with a lot more than just a cut." She points a finger at me.

I watch her turn around and storm out of the room. A chuckle escapes me. What an adventurous woman. I look down at the knife on the floor, stained with my blood, and bend over to pick it up.

"I had no idea my Princess carries a knife on her." I flip it between my fingers.

Inside an ensuite bathroom, I clean and treat my wounds. She didn't cause much damage. The cuts aren't deep enough to need stitches. I wrap them up and change into a black shirt, sans the tie and blazer. Sleeves rolled up to my elbows. My hair looks a mess. I wash my bloody hands under the water, rake the same through my black strands. Drying them to the towel, I step out of the bathroom, smiling at the knife resting on the desk. It goes into my pocket.

I open the curtains to search for her. The smile on my face fades when I see her and her bestfriend drag her drunk brothers out of the bar. I release a disappointed breath. They don't even have a bodyguard with them.

My driver brings the car to the entrance when I exit. I take the keys from him. "Good work today. You can go home." I pat him on the shoulder and slide in. The door slams close. I step on the gas, manouvering the car out of club premises.

Five minutes later, I find Tara's car half a mile ahead on the road. I sigh in relief.

Seeing her drive within the speed limit relaxes me. I slow down as well, driving behind her at a safe, convenient distance that's not suspicious. She stops at a red light. I rest my elbow on the window sill, holding the steering in a loose grip, my free hand on the gear shift.

I didn't mean to kiss her in that moment. Alright, who am I kidding. I always intend to kiss her. But she pissed me off so much I didn't know any other way to shut her up. I loved it though. I bite my lower lip as a smile blooms on my face. I loved the kiss, and also what happened next. Fuck, the cut hurts. But the pain is sweet. It'll remind me of her. I've thousand different scars. But none of them made me want to keep them etched on my skin forever. Her's will be first.

The signal turns green and I step on the accelerator. She drives ahead slowly, but as she reaches the middle of intersection, a poorly controlled jeep emerges from the right, and in a flash slams into the white Maserati. It carries the tattered car until it slides off and hits the road, toppling over and over again, before it stops; crushed and broken, smoke clouding the air.

The destruction happens in a matter of seconds, flipping everything upside down.

I hit the brakes in shock.

What the fuck?

I rip off the seatbelt and throw the door open, rushing in panic towards the scene as I quickly dial the emergency number. My eyes drift to the black Jeep that drove off the lane and hit the tree.

"Hello-"

"It's an accident," I cut the receiver off, rambling off the details, how it happened, what happened, and how many of them need medical attention, along with the address so help is sent out as soon as possible.

"We're on our way."

I reach the car and crouch to my knees. Stench of blood hits me. Raw, fresh, and warm. I look in, reeling back in horror of what I witness.

Five bodies.

Hung upside down.

"He-Help," a strangled whisper.

I react quick. "Tara," my voice comes out yelled, but in a whisper. "Tara, I'm here, okay, I'm getting you out." I open the jammed door and her bloodied arm falls out with a thud. My heart almost stops. I kneel again, realising Agastya had thrown his body on top of hers to save her from the crash, and maybe that's what protected her to the point she's the only one talking.

As selfish as I might seem, instead of worry, gratitude sinks in.

I duck in and wrap my arm around Agastya's shoulders, sliding him off Tara and onto the road. I know we're not supposed to move bodies met with accident, but if I don't, Tara might die of suffocation.

I gently lay him on the road, being extremely careful of his head. It looks like he took the worst hit. He's unconscious and bleeding all over.

"Agas- Agastya-" Tara chokes out a cry, her body stuck to the seat, broken bones holding her hostage. But the bloodied arm reaches out for her brother, a chase of desperation.

I feel my heart squeeze in my chest. I've never been scared of blood before. But seeing her drenched in it from head to toe, makes me hate it. I lean in and cup her cheek, "Esther," a murmur, broken, strained, barely spoken.

She sobs. "Agastya,"

I gently tuck back her blood matted hair, "He's fine, he's breathing. Help is on the way." I reassure her. "He's fine. You're fine. I'm here. Nothing will happen, okay?"

She cries harder. "It's my fault."

"No, it isn't. Just keep your eyes open for me, Princess." I beg her, my lips seeking her forehead to press a gentle kiss there. "Don't worry. Things are going to be fine." I pull back to check up on others.

Janet is fine overall, except for the cuts and bruises on her cheeks and jaw. Arush is bleeding from his head. And Ayush is unconscious.

Six ambulances arrive in a record time of three minutes. The paramedics rush out with stretchers and carefully shift the six bodies (including the driver of the jeep) inside the ambulances.

"Are you coming -" a nurse asks me, holding the doors of the last ambulance open.

"Yeah, I'll follow in my car." I tell her. She nods and closes the doors.

I stride back to my car. On the way, I dial Yuvraaj's number.

"What is it?"

"The car Tara and everyone else was in got into an accident." I inform him.

Silence.

And then a terror-driven, whispered, "What?"

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.